


Parabatai Madness

by Polarnacht



Series: Rare Pair [7]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Corrupted Parabatai Bond, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Parabatai, Parabatai Bond, Power Dynamics, Sex, Shadowhunter Academy, The Circle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polarnacht/pseuds/Polarnacht
Summary: When Lucian meets Valentine for the first time at the Shadowhunter Academy, he is an insecure, lost boy, vulnerable to the shining light that surrounds Valentine. The unequal pair become Parabatai and Valentine finds in Lucian an obedient follower of his slowly forming Circle. Soon Lucian’s complete devotion is not enough for Valentine anymore and Valentine pushes his Parabatai and himself over the forbidden step and they become lovers, experiencing the incredible power the enhanced but corrupted bond brings. But the higher one soars, the deeper one falls and soon Valentine’s play with fire has unforeseen consequences. Will the world burn alongside Valentine or does Lucian have the strength to save himself – and the others?A story about Lucian’s and Valentine’s relationship, but also about the early days of the Circle.
Relationships: Luke Garroway/Valentine Morgenstern
Series: Rare Pair [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733230
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16
Collections: Hunter's Moon Fic Recs, Shadowhunters Challenges - Rare Pairs





	Parabatai Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: Shadowhunters Challenges Rare Pairs
> 
> I want to thank AlterEgon for beta reading - you're awesome!

**Parabatai Madness**

Lucian Graymark had never been the most confident boy around. He had mainly been raised by his big sister, Amatis, and she had done a great job – but still, she had been a child herself, only three years older than him, when his mother had abandoned them to become an Iron Sister. Lucian had never seen her again. 

His mother had never been an overly warm person, seeing her children more of a burden than anything else – hence the radical decision to become Sister Cleophas, craving for a life beyond the duties of a common Shadowhunter, wife and mother.

The wound of being abandoned never really closed, leaving Lucian with a constant feeling of not being good enough, not being worthy of love and affection. Sometimes it felt like his skin itched, as it itched when new skin was growing over open flesh, but somehow he always ended up scratching it, leaving it open, raw and bleeding all over again. It were often minor things which made him scratch, at least minor to others. His best friend Jocelyn calling him not her friend anymore like so many 6-year-olds did because he could ran faster than her, his sister not letting him be his favorite warlock character in the roleplay they loved to play, a stranger making a side remark how pitiful the Graymark siblings were, the father dead and the mother an Iron Sister.

Lucian tried to hide his feelings inside, not wanting to put another strain to his sister’s life or adding another flaw to himself in his best friend’s eyes. Jocelyn Fairchild was the best friend he ever could wish for, she was fierce, strong, clever, loved – all things he longed to be but never truly was.

The Graymarks were no glorious Shadowhunter family, not like the Herondales, Fairchilds or Lightwoods, who had a long line of heroic family members, who had fought Greater Demons or had elected Consuls among their own. The Graymarks had always been average at the best. His father was just another example: he had died young, as so many had before him, but he hadn’t died in a great battle or against a superior demon, he simply had died during a raid against local vampires.

Lucian knew it was selfish and stupid, but sometimes he was just mad at his father, mad at him for dying. If he was alive, maybe Lucian would be better in learning all things related to Shadowhunters. Maybe his father would have been able to teach him the things the way he needed them to be taught. But his father had abandoned him, not like his mother, her willing absence hurting even more, but still. He felt betrayed, left alone with the mess that was inside of his heart and head. Lucian was not a good student, reading and writing were hard on him, sometimes he mixed the letters, far beyond an age where it seemed acceptable. But the letters just seemed to jump on their own will from one spot in a word to another, leaving Lucian frustrated behind, often rather guessing a meaning of a sentence than really able to read it.

Amatis did her best. She encouraged her little brother to study harder and longer, but she had so many things on her plate, she couldn’t focus only on him. She had to study herself, she had to keep the house in order and the Clave off their backs, as she didn’t want anyone to tear the siblings apart by forcing them to live with different Shadowhunter families. She was a bright mind, which may have made it even harder on her to understand the struggles her little brother went through. She believed him somehow that he did his best, but she couldn’t understand it and was lost as how to help him.

Lucian was not lonely, though he didn’t have many friends. But he had his best friend, who lived down the street, Jocelyn Fairchild. The two were nearly inseparable. Jocelyn was a lively, highly gifted redheaded girl, a whirlwind with a constant stream of new ideas. Of course, she never had any problems to study, and often, instead of encouraging Lucian to keep his work up, she lured him out as soon as her tasks were done, tempting the boy with the freedom of a spring afternoon in the fields of Idris.

So when Amatis decided to attend the Shadowhunter Academy together with Lucian when he came of age, the boy was far behind in his studies. He was not stupid or slow-witted, but through his constant struggle with words, he felt like it. Seeing all Shadowhunters his age being so far ahead of him made him feel embarrassed and dejected. He had been looking forward to this new experience, but now he constantly compared himself to the others – and he failed miserably in his own eyes. He withdrew further, avoiding the other students, hiding in the dark corners of the Academy rather than seeking the spotlight. He was afraid of being called out for his lack of abilities. The longer he stayed, the more he melted into the shadows, thinking of quitting nearly every day.

Jocelyn, on the contrary, excelled at the Academy, as expected. She was at the top of their year, whereas Lucian found himself at the bottom. Though she tried to support her childhood friend, she soon made other friends and spent also time with them – and so was his sister. She bonded almost instantly with Stephen Herondale, the son of famous Imogen Herondale and heir to their legacy. Lucian stood on the sidelines and watched the two most important people in his life move on, finding new interests, friends, even love – leaving him behind, once again.

***

Lucian sat at his study desk, as often the last to finish the assigned essay about demon languages, when an older student entered the room: Valentine Morgenstern. It was as if the dim room lit up with light the moment the 2-year-older boy entered the room. His mid-length, blond hair fell lightly into his face, giving him the aura of a rebel. His eyes were dark, nearly black, and they had a spark in them that could set an entire forest on fire. Lucian gulped nervously. Of course he knew who Valentine was, but he had no idea what the older boy wanted in the study room.

“Lucian Graymark, is it?”

Baffled, Lucian looked up. “Er, that’s right.” He sounded as nervous as he was.

With a superior and inviting grin, Valentine slipped at the desk beside him, glancing at the essay that had tormented Lucian for a while now.

“I’ve heard you are in need of a tutor, to come up to speed with your studies.”

All Lucian could do was nod. He was too perplexed for a coherent thought. Why would Valentine, of all people, volunteer to be his tutor? Valentine was one of the best students at the Academy. Maybe even the best. He was not only a very skilled fighter, he easily excelled in all his studies and with his charismatic personality, he nearly had all professors wrapped around his little finger.

“I’ll help you,” Valentine said, a small smile on his face that was barely hiding the predatory gleam in his eyes. And just like that, Lucian was dragged out of the shadows and thrown into the light, into the dazzling sun that was Valentine Morgenstern.

Before Valentine had approached Lucian, he had already gathered other misfits and outcasts around himself, all worshipping him for different reasons.

There was Maryse Trueblood, whose older brother Max had decided to leave the life of a Shadowhunter behind to marry a mundane woman, making her an outcast among her peers – until Valentine decided to take her under his wing.

There was her boyfriend Robert Lightwood, who had the right family name but carried the shame of nearly dying at his first runing-ceremony, a fact that a lot considered a weakness and left Robert fearing any additional rune. Valentine helped him by drawing runes on him, showing him that he was now strong enough to carry them. Eventually, Robert gathered enough strength to apply runes himself, yet he never found the same ease with runes than most Shadowhunters had.

There was Hodge Starkweather, who was born into a poor Shadowhunter family, who often left the boy alone on his own. Hodge was not a fighter, he was a scholar. He loved everything about herbs, plants and animals and considered becoming a Silent Brother one day. He was an outcast just as the others, laughed at for his poor fighting skills and worn-out clothes. Hodge couldn’t believe his luck when Valentine suggested training with him. Soon he improved under the blond boy’s able hands. In return, he offered Valentine his brain, later helping him to develop the sacred oath and the Circle rune, which bound everyone who took it to the Circle and its leader, not allowing them to betray him.

The small group around Valentine expanded slowly. Soon Valentine started to talk about reforming the Clave and their ancient laws. They were young, they were lonely and they had found a purpose each of them had lacked in their life before – they were easy prey for a predator like Valentine. They all fell for him, enjoying the light that fell on their little group thanks to their leader too much to question his directions or guidance. All were glad to be part of the chosen circle – a name that soon became official. All of them were too scared to lose the comfort and security their small group offered. None dared to speak poorly about any of them anymore, as Valentine had made clear that he would not allow it, beating a fellow student bloody to demonstrate his determination. But what scared the other students even more than the beating was the ease with which Valentine talked himself out of this mess – where another student would have been expelled, Valentine had not even received a slap on his wrist, using his charm and his father’s influence to wriggle himself out of any trouble.

The one to fall the hardest was Lucian. The moment the older boy had entered the study room, he had been lost. Being used to live in the darkness of shadows, he soon got addicted to the brightness, even though it was not his own but a borrowed light. But he didn’t care, he was drawn to Valentine like a moth to a flame, like the moth not caring if he got burned in the process. This was all the more the case because he felt that he was the chosen one, the person Valentine trusted with his most intimate thoughts and secrets - not knowing that Valentine told this to everyone in his inner circle, making every single one of them believe they were the most valued friend and ally in the group.

Yet, Valentine offered Lucian something he didn’t offer anyone else. Valentine asked him to become his Parabatai. Lucian stared at him open-mouthed, thunderstruck. He blinked a few times, just to make sure that he was not dreaming. But Valentine was still standing there, a radiant smile on his lips, a gleam in his brown-black eyes that concealed the darkness behind, or at least Lucian chose to overlook it. He nodded yes, too overwhelmed to say anything coherent, gladly accepting the offer, ignoring all valid reasons to deny.

***

Valentine had been raised mainly by his father, a stern man who had drilled his son to be a strong, fearless warrior. He taught him all necessary fighting skills from an early age on, but he also trained him to be a leader. The skills of manipulating and cunning others rightly seen as valuable as sheer physical strength. What Oskar Morgenstern forgot to teach, or maybe didn’t know himself, was how to love. Love had always been rather an abstract concept to Valentine. Somehow his parents loved him, but this didn’t prevent them from punishing him severely for every failure. But he learned from his mistakes, growing stronger and fearless; and when he grew older, he realized the power love could hold – at least when others loved him. Maybe love was the greatest power of all, it could inspire greatness but also lead to complete destruction – you just needed to know how to use it properly.

Valentine knew exactly how to play with it. By choosing weak personalities who adored and loved him for it, he made sure to bind them to him and his cause – no matter what his cause truly entailed.

He suspected soon that Lucian held another kind of love for him, maybe even earlier than the boy himself did. He was determined to explore that opportunity – binding Lucian to him with the Parabatai bond felt like a good first step. He had no special feelings towards Lucian, but he had realized the potential the boy had. Underestimated due to his reading problems for his whole life, Lucian craved opportunities to prove himself. Under Valentine’s capable care, he had become a mediocre student and a fierce fighter, but most important for Valentine was the complete devotion he showed towards him. He had challenged Lucian several times, pitching his friendship with Jocelyn or his family bond with Amatis against the loyalty to himself – and Valentine had always won. Even if somehow reluctantly, Lucian had chosen Valentine over and over again. Making him his Parabatai would bind him even closer, leaving all reluctance behind.

Valentine was proven right. Right after their runing ceremony, Lucian, not yet trained in closing their bond, had no chance to conceal his true feelings. Valentine smirked a little when he felt the purity of his Parabatai’s love. He had always loved to be the center of someone’s attention and by entwining his soul with Lucian’s; he had made sure that he was exactly that.

But Valentine took it one step further. He was not satisfied with Lucian’s complete devotion, he wanted to own him completely. Lucian should be his, and his alone. And what better way than to use his love against him? Slowly, he developed a habit in standing a bit closer to his Parabatai than necessary, touching him more often than before, squeezing his shoulder, patting his back – innocent gestures, but combined with a small smirk, a little wink or a deep look into Lucian’s brown eyes it had the desired effect. Lucian fell, deeper, faster and harder than ever before.

Lucian was at a point where he longed and loathed sparring with Valentine at the same time. He loved the physical closeness, the synchronizing of their hearts as they went into battle mode, the interlining of their thoughts, the intimacy he felt in every move. But he hated, or rather feared, the reactions of his own body. When the older boy pinned him to the ground, accidently crushing over him and grinding down on him, he felt himself getting hard and hoped with all his heart that Valentine didn’t notice. It was hard not to give in to the urge to just kiss his Parabatai, but he doubted that anybody would be ever interested in him like that, especially someone like Valentine, who could have anyone. But with every little flirt, every snarky remark, every lingering look Valentine opened the door a little further, leaving the younger boy helplessly flushed and undone, ready to let Valentine take everything he wanted. And Valentine wanted it all. Valentine was a trained master in reading people’s minds, and with the bond between them, it was even easier. Lucian was wax in his hands and he sculpted him like he wanted him to be, making sure the leash was long enough for Lucian not to recognize it as such, but short enough to have full control.

***

At the beginning, the Circle was not a group of radicals or fundamentalists. They wanted changes, but mostly for legitimate reasons. The Clave was an encrusted society, run mostly by old, white men who clung to tradition, not seeing how the world had changed. Valentine promised more gender equality, less homophobia, more openness towards minorities within the Shadowhunters. He claimed that the current Clave didn’t do enough to protect the mundanes, that they were hindered in fulfilling the mandate given by the Angels themselves: protecting them from the evil in the world. There were too many rogue Downworlders, too many demons and the Shadowhunters were not given the right means to protect the innocent. Why not implement a tracking system for Downworlders – Shadowhunters could be tracked too, so why not Downworlders? Every innocent Downworlder should be in favor for that, as they could prove then easily if they were involved in illegal activities or not.

Furthermore, Valentine wanted to shut down the Shadow Markets, a currently tolerated market system for Downworlders, mundanes and the occasional Shadowhunter. Many Downworlders relied on the Shadow Markets as an income source. Shadow Markets were not completely legal, they were more of a grey area – but Valentine was a man of black and white. He wanted the markets shut down, to eliminate a source of power for the Downworld. Money was power and the less chance Downworlders had to make it, the better. Shadow Markets where also a place for conspiracies, so Valentine knew he had to go against them, using the Shadowhunter mandate to protect mundanes as a means to it. It was true that mundanes had bought harming potions or spells there, so it was easy to make a good case out of it.

His real agenda, weakening the rights of Downworlders so much that they were barely existent anymore, Valentine kept hidden. It was better to ease people into more drastic believes then push them right into it. He didn’t want to destroy the Downworld, but he believed that Shadowhunters should tightly control it, being the superior race with their Angel blood. It would be for everyone’s good, Shadowhunters, mundanes and Downworlders alike. Valentine had read many things about rivalries between different vampire clans or werewolf packs, he knew how they always ended: in bloody fights with many losses. If the Clave took over these things, there would be less quarrel, less casualties – a win for everyone.

***

Valentine was in a good mood when the Headmaster called for him. He had sparred with Lucian when another student approached him with the Headmaster’s message. With a slight smirk, he left Lucian behind, who lay panting on the floor, trying desperately to hide his erection. Valentine loved what he could do to his Parabatai, he loved the way he blushed and came undone whenever he was close. He realized with a pang that a tiny part of him felt drawn to the boy, too.

He hummed lightly, fidgeting with his Stele, before knocking on the Headmaster’s door. Entering the room, his mood shifted immediately. Something was off. His mother was standing next to the Headmaster, unshed tears in her eyes. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line and she gripped the desk in front of her so hard that her knuckles turned white. Her entire posture was rigid. Something bad had happened. Valentine knew it without anyone saying anything.

It took all his effort to really listen to what the Headmaster had to say. He bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. But this was the only reaction he showed, this and his hands which clenched into fists. He was a Morgenstern. He didn’t show weakness in public. Or at all. He had loved his father and had hated his father. He had been a really strict man who believed in corporal punishment rather than loving affection – but he had been his father. And like most children, Valentine had thought him to be invincible. Hearing now that he had been killed, killed by werewolves to boot, made something snap inside of him. He felt his vision go dark, black spots dancing behind his eyelids.

Motionless he stood there, taking in the horrible news. He looked briefly to his mother, but he knew no comfort would come from her side. Both nodded at each other, a silent agreement – here was not the right place to mourn. Valentine felt his body go numb and cold, but the longer he listened to the Headmaster, the more he felt another feeling taking over. Boiling rage, demanding only one thing. Revenge. Werewolves had killed his father, werewolves would die for that crime. He would hunt down every single werewolf until he found the killer of his father.

***

As it was custom, the funeral took place immediately and Oskar Morgenstern’s body was supposed to burn on a pyre in Alicante. The Morgensterns had a manor in Alicante, Valentine would spend one day there and then return to the Academy. As his Parabatai, Lucian was allowed to accompany him. Lucian had been devastated by the news, he knew what it felt like to lose a parent better than anyone. Yet, he didn’t understand the way Valentine dealt with the grief. He himself had cried, seeking physical comfort from his sister and best friend. Valentine was the contrary, rigid, closed-off, inaccessible. Lucian had not seen him shed a single tear. But he knew that his Parabatai was hurting, and he was determined to stand by his Parabatai vow. He would do anything to make Valentine feel better, go wherever Valentine led him.

So he just stood by his side, showing him he was there, when they silently watched Valentine’s father burn. The sky was covered in greyish clouds, matching the grey smoke streaming of the huge pyre. Many Shadowhunters had joined the funeral, showing their respect for the famous Morgenstern family. But Valentine didn’t look once at anyone, not wanting to hear any of the empty words spoken by strangers. His mother stood stoically next to the pyre, shaking hands, nodding politely in her white dress.

As soon as the fire had burnt down, Valentine turned to Lucian.

“Let’s get out of here.”

His nearly black eyes held a distant expression, as if he didn’t really see the boy next to him. Lucian just nodded, following his leader as he always did. Lucian had thought that Valentine wanted to head home to the manor, but he led Lucian deep into the woods of Alicante.

“What are we doing here?” Lucian asked tentatively, when they had walked for what felt like an eternity.

“A werewolf couple lives here. We will find out what they know about the murder of my father.”

Silently, Valentine handed Lucian a seraph blade, a silver dagger and a knife plated with silver. He pushed Lucians white shirt up, drawing several runes on his brown skin. Runing was always an intimate procedure, especially between Parabatai. The skin-to-skin contact, the careful drawing, the small sting each rune left behind together with the heat radiating from the power of a rune drawn by a Parabatai – it always left Lucian a bit breathless. He felt his head go lighter, his focus shift even more to Valentine. The uncomfortable feeling that had settled in his stomach at Valentine’s announcement faded. Valentine was hurt, he needed answers, why and who had killed his father – and he was ready to follow and support him. He smiled and nodded at Valentine, indicating he was ready.

***

They burst into the small cabin where the werewolves lived. It was a quick and dirty fight, the wolves taken by surprise. Lucian knocked one out cold, Valentine wounded the other with his silver dagger before he bound him to question him, the silver in the weapon preventing the man to shift into his wolf form. Both boys were panting heavily, though the fight had been short. Yet, it was their first unsanctioned mission and adrenaline was rushing through their veins, making them high with excitement. Both were covered in werewolf blood and dirt, and Valentine couldn’t deny how beautiful Lucian looked like this. Flushed, eyes blown wide and totally his.

Without thinking much, he pushed Lucian against the next wall, pressing his hands above his head, holding him in place with his body and the pressure to his wrists. He smirked and before Lucian could form any coherent thought, Valentine smashed his lips feverishly against the younger boy’s, his tongue demanding access, forcing Lucian’s lips to open. And Lucian complied obediently, gasping in surprise and letting Valentine in. The kiss was raw and passionate, full of teeth, tongues, sucking and licking – and took Lucian’s breath away fully. Before Valentine pulled away, he sucked in the younger boy’s bottom lip and bit lightly down, pulling the lip away with his movement until he tasted the undeniable metal flavor of blood.

Satisfied, Valentine looked at Lucian’s dazed pupils and then he kissed him again, just because he could. This time, their bond exploded with emotions and something else, something darker and unknown. Before, the bond had hummed lightly, now it was roaring loudly with excitement. Both boys felt a sudden urge of power, the runes they had drawn on each other earlier lighting up anew in a newfound strength.

“Fuck,” murmured Valentine, his body feeling on fire, vibrating with raw energy and strength. A small groan from the wounded werewolf drew him back into the present, shifting his thoughts away from his Parabatai and back to the task on hand. “Let’s gain some intel.”

In one fluid motion, Valentine jumped in front of the man, grabbed his head and yanked it back. He punched him once, twice, before he stated his first question. Something in Valentine’s wild gaze and the brutal punches made the werewolf give in obediently, telling him all he wanted to know without needing further encouragement. When Valentine was done, he grinned wickedly and looked at Lucian, who still leaned panting against the wall, his cheeks flushed and his lips still kiss swollen, still spaced out.

“Let’s go” Valentine whispered darkly and all Lucian could do was take the outstretched hand, interline their fingers and go after his leader, leaving the bound and injured men carelessly behind.

***

They had to keep their new relationship a secret. Once Valentine seized power, he would made sure to repeal this ancient and in his opinion ridiculous law, but right now he didn’t want the Clave to get wind of what they were doing.

Originally, Valentine hadn’t planned on carrying on what he had started anyway. But something in the way Lucian looked at him, the way his eyes shone bright with love, admiration and devotion made him want to kiss Lucian again and again, binding the boy tighter to him with every time their tongues danced around each other, with every hickey and every bite, Lucian was more his. Valentine couldn’t deny his affection towards him either, the pulling of the bond was too strong and too tempting to ignore. The initial roaring had tuned down a bit, but whenever their lips locked in a forbidden kiss, it increased again until the air was full with a loud roar only the two of them could hear.

They got stronger by the day. They were faster, could jump higher, aim better, the runes they drew on each other burned brighter and longer than ever before. Soon, Valentine was not satisfied with kissing anymore, he wanted more – he needed more. He needed Lucian to be fully his, he needed their bodies to connect in the same way their souls already were. The bond demanded their union as much as Valentine – and Lucian - longed for it.

The next time they were sparring, alone in an old training room deep down in the catacombs of the Academy, Valentine applied a locking and silencing rune to the door. With a predatory grin he charged at Lucian, who deflected the punch and jumped over Valentine, a wide smile on his face. They were both half naked, their skin covered with sweat and their runes glowing in a faint red on their bronzed skin. Valentine managed to kick Lucian’s legs out, landing gracefully on top of his Parabatai, pinning him down with his weight.

“You look good under me, Parabatai.” Valentine’s eyes had gone impossibly dark with lust and want, the dark brown had shifted to an inky black. Lucian gulped and an adorable blush colored his already flushed cheeks even more.

“I love it when you blush for me,” Valentine smirked before he ground down on Lucian, kissing him hard and demanding. His hands rubbed over Lucian’s painfully hard cock and he smiled, satisfied at the low moan the younger boy could not suppress. That was how he liked him best, squirming under him and panting for more.

“Get undressed.” Valentine ordered with a low growl, his voice so demanding that all Lucian could do was to obey eagerly. He shivered lightly when he removed his pants and boxers, more due to Valentine’s intense glare than the chilly air. He had dreamed of this moment a long time, but reality beat all his expectations. The pull of the bond drove Lucian nearly mad, all he wanted, all he cared for was Valentine at this moment. He pulled Valentine closer to kiss him feverishly, before he bared his neck in a submissive gesture for Valentine to suck, bite and lick– to mark him as his. He moaned helplessly when Valentine’s teeth scratched his tender flesh and his hips bucked upwards, trying to get friction. Valentine sucked a last hickey on his neck before he drew back to look a moment at the younger boy beneath him. He pushed two fingers into Lucian’s mouth and the boy started to suck, obediently, eagerly, taking everything Valentine was giving.

“Hands and knees” Valentine commanded when he was satisfied with the lubrication of his fingers. Lucian crumpled to his knees and obeyed the order, lowering his head to the mattress and raising his ass high in the air. He sucked in a breath when he felt one slick finger brushing over his entrance and then pushing in, the tight ring of muscles slowly giving in to the intrusion. It burned, but not unpleasantly so, leaving him desperate to feel even fuller. Soon Valentine added another finger and started to scissor him out. Lucian hissed lightly when he added a third, but his moans where soon filled with pleasure.

The blond spit in his hand and spread it over his hard cock. Without further warning, he withdrew his fingers and pushed into his Parabatai. Their bond rejoiced with joy, opening even further, letting both feel what the other could feel. It was nearly as if Valentine fucked himself. Valentine had started slow, giving his lover time to adjust, but soon his movements increased, getting more frantic the deeper he drove into his Parabatai. Valentine hadn’t bothered with getting rid of his pants, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against Lucian’s bare ass every time he pulled out and slammed into him again. The joint sensation of fucking and getting fucked at the same time soon drove Valentine over the edge, his orgasm hitting him full force. With a cry, he spilled everything he had deep into his Parabatai and collapsed on top of him, the orgasm strong enough to push Lucian over the edge with him, even though he had not touched his cock once.

When Valentine could breathe again, he rolled over and grabbed Lucian’s hair, tilting and turning his head towards him.

“You’re mine,” he whispered before he claimed him one more time.

“Yours. Always yours.” Lucian breathed out in earnest as soon as Valentine had given him free, the open bond conveying the truth of his feelings. From the day Valentine had stepped in the study room, he had been his and now, with the bond so strong and his feelings so raw and overwhelming, there was no way he was going to be someone else’s ever again. Nephilim loved with their whole heart, but only once. Only ever once.

***

The high that followed was incredible. Whatever the Parabatai pair did, they succeeded, better to say, they excelled. Valentine had always been an incredibly skilled fighter, but now, with the added strength of their enhanced bond, he was nearly unbeatable. Normally, the bond attuned Parabatai mostly in battles, synchronizing their movements and heartbeats. Valentine and Lucian however felt like constantly in a fight. As soon as they were close, and they barely separated anymore, their hearts synched, their minds and souls connected in the most intimate way possible. When one thought of something, the other merely had to look at him to understand what the other wanted. As always Valentine led and Lucian followed.

The closer the Parabatai got, the more frantic Valentine’s search for the killers of his father became. His thoughts narrowed down on the one thing he felt he needed. Revenge. Along with this, his beliefs became more extreme. His view of the world came down to one thing, Shadowhunters were the children of Angels, superior to anyone and thus should lead the others.

The higher they two boys rose, the brighter Valentine shone, blinding his followers with the aura of superiority and light which surrounded him. They all were mesmerized and followed him, crossed lines they had never thought of crossing before. All joined in in the hunt for the werewolves, not shying away from rough interrogation methods or even killing. The more blood they shed, the more they bound themselves to Valentine and his beliefs. It was easier to kill if you believed you were in the right. Even students who hadn’t yet joined the Circle, started to believe, some driven by sympathy for Valentine’s loss like Jocelyn, others by the intriguing display of power. Power always drew in the powerless, searching for what they didn’t possess.

Professors and teachers looked the other way or secretly approved of Valentine’s agenda. There were a lot Shadowhunters who felt the same way and had never approved of the Accords in the first place. Yet, there was one teacher who didn’t let herself be blinded. She had friends among Downworlders and knew of the dangers someone like Valentine could bring. She decided to take fate in her own hands.

She requested Valentine to join her in an empty study room, claiming he needed to rework one of his essays. Though Valentine was annoyed by that, he followed the order, still wanting to keep up the façade of a dutiful student. As soon as he entered the room and closed the door, the teacher stepped up behind him and without any warning, buried a seraph blade deep in his back, twisting the blade to cause even more damage. Valentine gasped in surprise and pain, falling to his knees, pain jolting through his body. The blade had pierced his lung. He drew in a gurgling breath, blood spilling out of his mouth. He felt his mind clouding, grey fog entering his thoughts. He tried to call for his Parabatai, but no coherent words came out of his mouth. He choked on his own blood instead. But what his mouth was not able to do anymore, the bond did for him. The bond screamed in agony, yelling for Lucian to come.

The pull Lucian felt the moment the blade entered Valentine’s body was stronger than anything he had felt before. He yelped in pain when the teacher twisted the blade inside of his Parabatai and he knew he had to hurry. Without thinking, he activated his speed rune and ran towards Valentine, following the pull of the bond.

When he opened the door to the study room, he found his lover covered in blood, lying on the hard concrete floor. His chest was barely moving anymore, his lips already white and his eyes glazed over, death a heartbeat away. With a scream, Lucian fell to his knees beside his Parabatai, reaching for his Stele. He knew it was too late, he knew the wound was fatal – yet, he yanked the blade out of the wound with one hand and drew an Iratze with the other simultaneously. And to his utmost surprise and relieve, the rune worked. It started to close the gaping wound, knitting the open flesh back together. With shaking hands he drew another and a third one, followed by the blood replenishing rune. The wound finally sealed and color returned into Valentine’s stony features. As soon as the red returned to Valentine’s lips, Lucian bent down and kissed him, not caring that he was smeared with blood and drool. When he pulled away, Valentine’s eyes were fully black and he looked at Lucian in awe and surprise. Then he started to laugh, a helpless, maniac laugh. A second later Lucian joined in, both boys rolling over the bloody floor, breathless and still laughing.

“We did it.” Valentine managed to state between two gales of laughter. They had done it. They had accomplished the impossible. They had defeated death.

***

But the knowledge that they could defy fatal wounds made them reckless. Together they killed the teacher, covering it up as an accident. When Lucian broke her neck, he felt no remorse, just satisfaction. He would not allow anyone to harm Valentine.

They didn’t bother with backup anymore, or with a clear strategy before throwing themselves into a fight. Whenever they felt like it, they ran into the dangerous woods around the Academy alone, still on the hunt for Oskar Morgenstern’s murderer. But in the woods lived not only the small werewolf families they had already hunted down and tormented, there were also the half feral werewolf packs. And after a couple of months of sheer luck, they finally ran into one. That day, it was only Valentine and Lucian. Facing six huge, wild wolves didn’t make them stop or halter in fear. To the contrary, both longed for the fight, their bond urging them into any battle they could get – the Parabatai bond was a bond for warriors, designed to fight in battle together. The bond demanded blood.

With joy the boys flung themselves at the wolves, knowing that even a fatal wound could be healed. What they hadn’t thought of was that dying was not the only possible outcome. They defeated the werewolves in the end, but one of them had wounded Lucian severely. His left side was ripped open, the claw marks clearly visible. And even though the wound closed easily with the Iratze Valentine applied, both boys looked at each other in fear. The full moon was close. The risk of Lucian turning into a werewolf was high. 

Two days later, Lucian had locked himself up in an abandoned building as the full moon approached and as soon as it was in full display, Lucian felt himself change. Fur spread, his hands and feet turned into paws and claws, his ears grew and he felt a tail before he fell down on all four, howling at the moon and roaring in anguish. The turn was painful itself, but what was even more painful was the snapping of the Parabatai bond. Lucian’s human part screamed, the wolf in him howled in pain, before he finally collapsed down on the floor of his self-made cell.

When he woke up, he was human again – but he knew that everything had changed. His hand desperately searched for his rune, for his connection to Valentine – but it was gone, only white scars left behind where a red rune should have been visible. He screamed again, full of pain and despair. But when his mind had caught up with the loss, something else settled in. The clear but narrow focus which had lain only on his Parabatai widened again, and with a gasp he realized what he had done, following Valentine blindly. The teacher he had killed in cold blood, all the wolves he had murdered or tortured to gain information showed up in a row before his inner eye and he screamed again, lost in guilt, shame – and longing for his lost love.

A few miles away Valentine had also collapsed to the floor, his hand clutching the bleeding rune before it vanished for good. He knew what this meant. And he knew what he had to do.

***

Valentine pressed the dagger into Lucian’s hand.

“Go” he said desperately, trying to distance himself a step further from his former lover and Parabatai. “You know what you have to do. You know what the right thing to do is, Lucian. You cannot live like a dog. Just do it.”

Lucian’s brown eyes searched for anything in Valentine’s gaze that reminded him of the boy he had fallen for. He searched for affection, sympathy, anything. But he found nothing. He only saw eyes fully gone black with a dangerous, lunatic gleam in them. He took the dagger and ran, towards the woods, to never look back.

It was the last time Valentine showed anything like mercy. He knew he should kill Lucian himself, but something was holding him back. Something he could not name, but that still was there. Later, when he learned that Lucian had not killed himself but lived on an unworthy life of a werewolf, he learned an important lesson. To love was to destroy. His love for Lucian had made him weak; too weak to end Lucian’s life when he was still an honorable Shadowhunter. His love condemned Lucian to a life as an inferior being, nothing more than a dog. He would not do the mistake again to let love interfere with what needed to be done. Never again.

***

Valentine’s eyes scanned the group of followers who sat around a tree in the garden of the Academy. It was his inner circle, his most trusted underlings. He knew what he wanted to accomplish and how to do it. The Downworld had not only taken his father, but also his lover and Parabatai. It was time to take the Downworld, time to wipe out the existence of anyone with demon blood. For that, he needed an army. Fight fire with fire – he needed the powers of Downworlders to erase them. And he needed an Angel. Blood for blood. Blood against blood. He had already plans how to accomplish all that, he had set up experiments to gain demonic and angelic power, he knew how to contain an Angel, to contain demons and Downworlders. What he needed now was someone to carry his children. Someone to carry his experiments.

His eyes fell on the fiery redhead sitting next to Stephen. She was strong. She was smart. She was skilled. The right choice. Ever since his father’s death, she had become more loyal to him, her sympathy for him binding her to him and his case. Now after Lucian’s sudden disappearance, she was even more devoted, clinging to him and the Circle as for dear life.

“Jocelyn,” he said softly. And the girl looked up, her face lighting up when she felt his interest on her. Valentine smiled, the smile of the wicked, the smile of a predator ready to catch his prey, the smile of a madman ready to rule the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & kudos are loved 💙


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